Danse Macabre
by shamaho
Summary: Moulin Rouge crossover. A year fater the opera house burns, Christine and Raoul are married, and Raoul is a patron for the Moulin Rouge, but when she witnesses a tragic love story, she rethinks her decision. Will be EC
1. Chapter 1

Danse Macabre

Chapter One

The New Patron

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Summary- A year after the events at the Opera House, Christine and Raoul have been married for some months. Raoul has become patron to the Moulin Rouge, in Montmartre, and while witnessing a tragic love tale there, Christine rethinks her decision.

Disclaimer- I own no one that looks familiar.

Notes: My first crossover ever, be gentle. More film Phantom based, so I'll be trying to describe Emmy and Gerard. It takes place in 1871, instead of 1899, so as to better fit time-line. I didn't want Christine to have waited 30 years to rethink her decision.

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_Prologue_

Montmartre, a dark place of illustrious people and ideals, passion, beauty, love, freedom, all had existed and yet all had been shattered when their goddess had died. Consumption was not uncommon, but Satine was so large a figure that all the activity had ceased. Christine glanced up at the window that was so familiar to her and sighed sadly, allowed her love to escort her from the carriage and up the stairs, she knocked thrice, but no one answered, so she opened the door. It stunk of sweat, rotten food and alcohol inside, she frowned, felt tears prick her eyes as the bearded man in the corner saw her, his face was that of a ghost and his eyes no longer held life in them, rather a wish to be dead. _A wish to be with her._

"Oh, Christian." She hurried over and sat next to him, looked intently upon him as he formed words to speak to her. "She was never su-pp-pp-os–ed t-to da-da-da-die!" He sobbed, began to cry. She let several tears fall down her smooth, pale cheeks, took his head and held it in her lap as he cried, stroked his head like a mother with her broken hearted child. "Oh hush now, you can't live like this, Christian. You promised her." She made him look up at her. "You promised me!"

It had all come to happen one year ago.

* * *

The sun had shown brightly as Raoul de Chagny had escorted his 17 year old bride from their carriage, her eyes were glued, however, to the large, elaborate windmill. She exhaled deeply, smiled up at him. His smile was soft, amused, you might say. As she gazed at her surroundings he gazed upon her, the simple champagne colored silk gown, which draped about to all come together in the back, where it seemingly tied in a bow. Her hair was fairly loose, as she preferred it, the sides near her temples swept back and fastened by a lovely antique pin.

But none of their arrival matters, only that a year after the Opera House had been damaged in a fire caused by Christine's ghostly friend, they arrived at the Moulin Rouge so that Raoul could discuss business with M. Harold Zidler.

Not long into the conversation an old red haired woman had come to collect her, Zidler explained that he knew she might be bored during the meeting, and she might have a more enjoyable time with the other women. Christine kindly accepted after kissing Raoul's cheek and followed the woman, Marie, to a dressing room backstage, it was cramped, a lot of plumbing ran through there. Soon after their arrival, a stunning red head met them and took up the tour.

"Hello! You must be Vicomtesse de Chagny!"

"Yes, pleased to make your acquaintance." Christine said and shook the beauty's offered hand. "I am Satine, just call me Satine. What is your first name?"

"Oh, it's Christine."

"Yes, now I recall. I'm sorry I was a bit late, I just got out of rehearsal."

"I know how that feels." The young viscountess gazed around, sighed. "I'm sure you heard, I used to be a singer at the Opera Populaire. I am glad I left it behind but I miss singing, Raoul forbids it, he says it brings him bad memories."

"That's terrible! So he makes all the money and you just, hold his hand?"

"I'm afraid so, I can't work, can't see my old friends, but I love Raoul. I have for a very long time." She sighed, smoothed the front of her plain, but expensive dress, she did not bother with gloves, or hats or bags, and she didn't wear much jewelry, the dress was often enough.

Satine gazed at her, smiled softly and said. "You're very young aren't you? You look very young."

Christine grinned, nodded. "I'm seventeen."

"Wow. You poor thing, well, let's give you a look around before all the gentlemen come in tonight, hmm?"

Christine nodded and shyly followed, Satine was probably ten years older, but she was very beautiful, she had red hair which was swept up on top of her hair rather carelessly. Her dress was a deep violet, beaded in parts, with some ornate stitching on the skirt, her corset seemed tighter than any woman's that Christine had seen. She frowned when she heard her cough, figuring it must be a terrible thing to wear.

* * *

Two hours later the couple had left and Satine was staring at Harold with disbelief written on every part of her face. "I'm, I'm to sleep with the Vicomte? But what of his wife?"

"Mme de Chagny will not know, it will be harmless!"

"I spent time with her, Harold, she was so sweet and innocent, I couldn't possibly, no, I won't do it."

"Satine, he is the only one who can help us. Only M de Changy can provide you with stardom, surely one night of passion is a sufficient price for that? Hmmm?"

She was breathless, coughed for a moment, but suppressed the need to faint. She met her eyes with his, it was for the best, they said. She sighed, sat down in front of his desk and took a cigarette, lit it and inhaled a couple of drags before beginning to cough again. "It isn't fair."

"I know darling, she is but a child, but that is how life must go, hard. She will learn to cope. As for you, you shall be the thriving actress she could only dream of being."

She thought about the girl, and what she'd read about her in the papers. "She . . she knew Erik, Harold."

He said nothing, his eyes widened and he looked as if he wanted her to explain. "At the opera, do you remember in the papers, the woman he was madly in love with. That's her, the child soprano."

"Oh dear God, the one Nadir said broke his heart. But didn't he let them go?"

"Yes, yes, he didn't want her to waste her life away beneath the opera house. Still, when I looked into her eyes, I could see how much he affected her, she has feelings for him, she is only afraid of him."

"Will Erik be coming tonight?"

She smiled, shrugged. "That's the beauty of it, never can tell, we can hope, tho." She sighed then, her smile fading. "I just hope if he does come that he won't . . . Try, anything."

Harold sighed, shrugged softly. "I seriously doubt it, he will watch her, mourn, hide in the shadows of his box. It is a pity tho, I hate seeing him so sad, especially when it all could have been avoided but he's so damned stubborn," he sighed, shook his head. "Well anyhow, go on and get ready, you have a big night ahead of you."

She smiled faintly, nodded and stubbed the hardly touched cigarette out, stood and sauntered out, thinking of the young girls smile, and watching it being crushed as she learned of her husband and friend's infidelity, it would not be the first time she slept with a married man, but the first time she knew the mans wife, she was only a girl, and she had been through enough all ready.

_Perhaps is Erik came tonight, perhaps she could push THEM together, yes, yes it could very well work!_

"Tonight, Vicomte, you signed your divorce papers. And signed the witness part of Erik and Christine's marriage license!" She whispered softly, having no idea what was in store for her this evening. She had absolutely no idea, that she too would fall in love.

"I wonder where Toulouse has been, it's been awfully quiet."

"Oh, they're rehearsing, over at the hotel," Nini caught up with her and Satine smiled.

"Probably driving the others insane."

"More than likely, see you tonight." Nini hurried off with a smug grin and bounce of curling hair as she was late for her costuming.

* * *

It was a good thing Raoul had explained the Moulin Rouge's purpose to Christine earlier, or she might have wondered why so many men were there. She sighed softly as they sat in the box, looked at Raoul who was excitedly gazing at the dancers, all of which she had met and all of which waved to her. She bit her lip, looked at Raoul's enchanted face again, then stood and went into the box next to theirs. "Excuse me, messieurs." She gave a smile, one man, whom apparently hadn't been here either, looked up at her and gaped, she felt underdressed in the green gown, which exposed much of her cleavage and left the mind to wonder with it's tightness, Roaul had selected it, and she understood why now.

"A-are you S-Satine?" The young man asked and his friends all began to laugh at him, she blushed bright red, pushed a curl from her face and shook her head. "No, no, I do not work here. I was wondering if any of you could escort me to the ladies room? I've never been here before. . . My husband doesn't know this place any better than I. . ." She saw them poking fun at the young man still. "It's quite all right monsieur, I can see why you would think that." She gently squeezed his shoulder.

He smiled softly, still embarrassed and an Argintinean man stood. "I will take you, Mme, come with me."

"Thank you." She lent him her hand and muttered to Raoul about being right back. The man led her to the room and nodded when she thanked him again. She was surprised to find him waiting to escort her back, smiled and took his hand again, he explained. "It's quite crowded now, Satine came out and is almost done with her number, she danced with the man that thought you were her."

She nodded, followed him out and felt her pulse double when they witnessed Satine fall from the trapeze into a mysterious cloaked figures arms, he took her backstage with Marie, and she frowned, bit her lip and returned to Raoul. "Guess I missed a lot, hmm?"

"M Zidler is clapping, I suppose it was part of the show." They both looked puzzled, but clapped anyway. Once the next dance number ended Raoul stood. "Are we leaving?" She asked hopefully.

"No,no,no, I have a business meeting to attend with Zidler and Satine, perhaps you can meet up with some of your friends until then?" Before she could reply he bent and kissed her forehead, then went off to meet Zidler, she sighed, looked around the theater..

"I don't have any friends here."

* * *

Backstage, before and during the previous couple moments

Erik carried Satine and placed her on a chaise, Marie woke her with some smelling salts, and the beauty coughed a few times, inhaled deeply. "Oh Marie," she laughed softly. "Oh these silly costumes!" She tried to lighten the mood, saw the seriousness in Erik's one visible side.

"Just a little fainting spell." Marie said with a gentle smile, let the red head cough into a hankie, caught site of the little blood Satine did not see.

"Erik," she murmured, he was still speechless from seeing the blood, he knew deep down what was wrong. "Erik she's here, Christine is here."

"I know." He said softly, his one good eye twinkled at her with amusement. "Stealing the show, are you?"

"As always." She said softly. "Oh Erik, you must go to her, she's going to need you tonight with . . . You know. She has feelings for you Erik, I can see it, I saw it in her eyes today."

"Christine may have feelings for me, but they are only of friendship."

"Oh, no," she smiled softly, her eyes met his. "No they run much deeper than that, you have her, Erik, she needs but to realize that. You strike her soul so profoundly that it frightens her, I see it, I see it because it once lay in me." She coughed more softly and stood. "I best change for the Vicomte, she's probably sitting all by herself back there, Erik. Do not leave her to be alone while her husband betrays her."

She went behind the screen and he thought for a moment, his sculpted face expressed his curiousness, then he smiled, perhaps it was time for him to come out of hiding. He moved to leave the dressing room when Satine called. "Oh, and Erik?"

He turned to her, saw her face peeping out from the top of the screen. "Yes, Satine?"

"She doesn't know about what Raoul is really doing, keep it that way, hmm? She'll start out hysterical enough."

He grinned all the more, nodded gently and left the room, made his way through the back and went to the floor entrance, watched her as she sat sadly in the box Raoul had left her in, playing with her fingers, still so sweet, beautiful and so innocent. Oh, how he loved her, and how often he dreamt of their kiss. Satine must be right, she must only be afraid and if he could work past that, she would be his. He smiled softly, stepped carefully onto the floor and waited for her to look up, when she did and gasped, the soft smile turned into a devilish grin.

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AN: PLEASE review! I need your ideas, your input and I wouldn't mind some help with my grammar and spelling, any other errors I make, etc. 


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

Burn

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Disclaimer- As always, I own no one you recognize. 

Notes- This is not one of my best or longest chapters but it will help the story, please read and review! Please? Please!

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Christine was so conflicted at that moment she was not sure what to think or feel. She was excited to see her dark angel but she was afraid as well, and concerned, about both herself and him. Would he be upset with her? Has he been all right since she left him? The feelings he stirred in her that night came flooding back through her, she felt breathless, could imagine his hands on her and then felt sorrowful, as she remembered that moment he had let her go, that moment he had been sobbing and smiling at once, their kiss had proven to be different than all her other kisses with Raoul, it was filled with yearning and passion, engulfed by a nameless desire which Raoul still could not seem to satisfy. 

She smiled gently, the same smile he had watched form on her mouth when she had seen him smile after their kiss, nervous and shy, sweet and resolved. He sighed softly, so softly that she never knew of it. He moved out to the part of the floor in front of her, the railing separated them, and only that, he watched her nervously try to find something to say so he took the initiative to speak first. "You look well."

Her breath hitched in her chest and she felt like slapping herself for what she said next. "What are you doing here?"

He chuckled with a cool stealthiness and shook his head. "It's nice to see you too. . ."

"I didn't mean it to come out that way, it was the first thing on my mind and it slipped." She corrected softly, her eyes meeting his amused ones. "I wish I could say the same for you but I cannot really see you."

"You can see me fine."

"I cannot, sir, you hide behind a mask."

He was very amused now, chuckled again and paced some. "My, my, that is very clever of you, Mme, very clever. You know I shall never remove my mask simply so you can gaze upon my horrifying flesh."

"Have you forgotten so soon, that your face gives me no horror? Monsieur, I beg to look upon you, you yourself, not the mask. Need I remove it a third time?" Her brown eyes were sincere and pleading, she needed to see him but he did not understand why.

"No, no I shall come into there." His voice had nearly broken when he'd said 'shall', but he hadn't let it. He colly moved to the wall separating them and grabbed it, easily swung himself over. She was smiling, excited, her pulse made her breathing sharpen and she knew he could hear the small inhales easily from where he stood before her, he gazed at her for a moment, taking in her beauty, the turned and lowered the curtain of that box, which could be closed for the occupants privacy.

She smiled intently, he half reached for the mask then threw his arms down, half turned from her. "I . . . I can't Christine."

She frowned and stood up, touched his shoulder so he would turn to her. She gently reached up and easily slid the mask away, left the wig so he could make himself presentable more easily. He sobbed when her expression did not change at all when she looked upon his ravished right side of the face, she frowned in pity, reached up and gently caressed the flesh, shook her head. "I'm so sorry for everything that's happened, for what I put you through. But, why did you let me go? I would have stayed, I decided to stay."

"To save Raoul," he added thickly, did not lose her gaze. "I could not hold you only for you to be saving him. I wanted you to come to me out of love. And I knew you never could."

"I'm not so sure," she breathed, laughing nervously. "Since that kiss I haven't been sure of anything but I just, I just went with it, I followed the flow because I thought that when I left you'd have . . ." She shook her head, a tear slipped from her left eye. "I can't even think about it. I never wished you harm and I didn't mean it when I said I hated you, Raoul, Raoul is all I have left of my childhood, of my father and I was so afraid of letting go." More tears began to slip down her face, she was growing hysterical. Both of her hands caressed both sides of his face and he gripped her wrists gently. "Oh God, I don't even know if you have a name so I've been calling you my Angel, no matter what that's what you are because, you taught me to sing and you cared so deeply for me even though it led to . . . Something which I wish not to dream about."

It was becoming difficult to understand her as her sobs built up and finally she let it all go, she feel into his chest and pressed her palms on either side beside her face. "Oh, hold me." She gasped as she let the tears and sobs out, she felt his arms hesitantly rise but then tighten around her waist and his hands soothed her back. She didn't cry long, and when she pulled away and wiped at her face, he felt an odd emptiness. "I'm sorry." She said softly.

"No, don't be. You needed to get that out." He sighed. "But what exactly are you saying Christine?"

She sighed, plopped down again. "I don't know, I do feel something for you, but I. . . I've already married Raoul and I, I could never leave him so, I guess you're just a very fond, warm memory for me."

"Warm," he looked at her in an enticing manner. "Warm is a kiss to the hand and a smile in return Christine, hot is the need to quickly make love and then to discard that person because of lack of quenching, I do not make you warm or hot, Christine." He moved behind her, knelt and moved her hair aside, breathed against her neck until she quivered, his lips rubbed her skin as he mumbled, "I make you _burn_." against it. She moaned as his lips traced a pattern down the back of her soft neck, then curled forward as he stood and kissed along her jugular. She groaned helplessly but pulled away, whispered fervently. "I cannot, I cannot, please stop."

He paused in his place, she was holding back because of Raoul. He knew, and he ignored Satine's warning. "Do you know where your precious husband is now, Christine? He is paying to seduce a certain young courtesan, so that he can pay for this to be expanded. Satine wants none of this, she is worried about you, but if she doesn't, all her dreams of being famous end. Pity, Raoul seems to end a lot of those such dreams." He moved to leave the box when she hissed. "Wait!"

He turned and looked at her, her eyes stung with tears of indignity and she was breathing unevenly. "Would you make such a story up to seduce me, monsieur?"

"My dear sweet child, he left smiling, didn't he? No, I did not make it up, nor do I plan to seduce you, as you obviously want nothing from me." He continued slipped the mask into place, finished and added. "As for me, if you must remember me from this point on please do not remember me as 'Monsieur' or the Phantom of the Opera, my name is Erik, remember me only as that, Erik, the man."

"So I shall never see you again?" Her voice had calmed but sounded disappointed.

"You shall not ever desire to." Before she could protest, he silently slipped out and made his backstage. "Good luck, Mme de Chagny." By the time she pulled the curtain up he was exiting the floor into the backstage area, she climbed out of the box, hurried after him but when she got backstage and looked around, no one was there.

* * *

An hour later Raoul collected her and refused to answer any of her questions, making her heart numb and brain go haywire, Erik had told the truth! And she had not dared believe him, he, the one man that truly cared for her, she was but a lucky possession to Raoul, her mind reeled at this and she became hysterical in the carriage, he'd kissed her, held her and tried to calm her until finally she'd quieted, and when he asked her about her crazy moment, she'd said nothing. They arrived home and she'd gone straight to bed, he enjoyed a scotch and did the same, made an advance to touch her. 

"Don't." She hissed.

"Would you deny me my right as your husband?" He growled and pulled her close, feverishly kissed her, let his hands fondle her all over, she wept and screamed, kicked and hit him but he did not let her leave him that night. All the time she lie in his arms, she thought about Erik.

And it made her _burn_. She burned with sadness, lust and hate, she burned with her weariness that the last two years had played on her, most of all, she burned about her second chance at freedom and her denying it with her proper sociable excuses. Erik loved her, Raoul wanted her as his wife, and she was torn between wanting the normal life Raoul could give and wanting the dark life she knew she needed, what Erik so sensually offered, she glared at Raoul in the midst of her tears as she slept, his long hair and long face, he would be handsome to most women her age but she was different, and always had been so, before her eyes he morphed into Erik for but a moment, unmasked and bare to her touch, she smiled softly and drifted off to sleep.

She decided she would go to Satine for help.

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Next chapter is coming soon! PLEASE review! 


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